


We Found Our Horizon

by Written_On_The_Trees



Series: The Trees' October 2020 Writing Challenge [30]
Category: Palaye Royale (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Apparently Emerson has a thing about women who can beat him in a fight, F/M, Flashbacks, Getting Together, October Prompt Challenge, Pirates, Prompt Fic, Swordfighting, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Written_On_The_Trees/pseuds/Written_On_The_Trees
Summary: Day 29 of my 31 October Writing Prompts. Prompt:Pirates.Anne listens to her husband Emerson tell their children how they got together.
Relationships: Emerson Barrett/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Trees' October 2020 Writing Challenge [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949572
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	We Found Our Horizon

Anne leaned back against the palm tree that was creating the pool of shadow she was sitting in, listening to her husband entertain their children a few feet away where the waves were lapping against the sand.

Life had been peaceful recently; Sebastian had moved to England to reap to rewards as his time as a Privateer, and Remington was making the most of what little freedom pirates had left, and so it was just Emerson, her, and their daughters Georgina and Emilia currently inhabiting the little cove she and her husband had claimed as their home. Anne was sure that it wouldn’t last - it never did with her husband’s family, not that she actually wanted it to - but she was enjoying it while it lasted: basking in the warmth of the sun, the smell of the sea, and the sound of Emilia asking Emerson how it was that he and Anne had gotten together.

Emerson was, of course, telling them a sanitised version of events. Though neither of them had any shame for their lives before they had settled down to raise Georgina, and then Emilia, but they agreed that both girls were a little young to hear about all the gory details.

The life of a pirate was an adventurous one, that was undeniable, but it didn’t make for suitable stories for children…especially not the story of how Anne and Emerson had met…

* * *

The Kropp brothers were renowned in the Caribbean Sea as the most vicious force any ship had had to deal with. It made no difference if that ship was from a navy or a trading company, or belonged to another pirate, the Kropp brothers were merciless in the taking over other ships’ bounties.

Fortunately, Anne Read was similarly merciless.

She had been a pirate since she was a slip of a girl and had grown up tougher than many a man. She was one of the few women to live openly in a man’s world. Superstitious sailors, blinkered navy men, self-righteous bluejackets: she’d proved them all wrong by rising through the ranks of a few ships, until she’d become the most feared captain from Ottoman Tripolitania to Norway.

But as feared as she was, there were many who were out to put an end to her reign as the pirate empress of the North Sea. Men with fragile egos and even more fragile ideas that women belonged on land and not on ships - let alone wind up in charge of a Brigantine ship and its crew.

Usually, Anne had no trouble sending those who opposed her away with their tails tucked firmly between their legs - or to a watery grave…but this time she had been unlucky.

_No. I was not unlucky; I was betrayed._

Promises of gold and jewels and power had proved too much for a few members of her crew, and when her ship had come under attack from a snake of a rival, they had attempted to lead a mutiny rather than defend the ship.

Anne had gotten away, but the fight had been brutal, and now it was her slinking away with her tail between her legs, off to the Caribbean Sea, where no-one would think to look of her, or dare come looking for fear of the dangerous Kropp brothers. There were few men who dared to cross them, or enter their waters without an invitation…but Anne was no man, and she was afraid of no-one.

The Kropp brothers may be the story of many a whispered tale, but Anne was a living legend: the villainous, infamous Anne Read, Captain of the Queen’s Revenge.

_…Former captain._

Anne winced, and pressed her hand against the bandages that were wrapped around her chest. The wound she’d received had almost killed her, and the truth was it might yet still. She was doing her best to keep infection out, but with the wound the length and depth that it was, it would be impossible to tell if she was managing until the wound healed or her flesh started to rot. She could only ask so much of wine and vinegar.

Until then, all she could do was sit at the base of the front mast of the sloop she’d escaped on, letting her legs dangle over the waves below her and singing to the stars while she acted as the ship’s lookout.

Dark as it may be, they had recently come into waters that the middle Kropp brother, Remington, was known to hunt in - and he had a habit of using the darkness to his advantage. Anne would be more worried if she wasn’t experienced in using the same tactics, and knew exactly what to look for as she was keeping an eye out for him.

She spotted him with ease.

Instead of raising the alarm in any obvious way, Anne was more subtle in letting her small crew know they were being stalked, changing her song to something that they knew meant they were being chased: _“_ _For the tide is The Devil, it will run you out of breath…Race you to the seashore, chase you to your death…The tide is the very Devil, and the Devil has its day…_ _”_

Edmund, the man nearest to her, let out a low whistle, and picked up the song himself, letting it spread around the ship: as lights went off and crewmates prepared for an attack, returning to silence as they lay in wait. All except Anne.

Anne stayed sat on the mast, singing in a mournful tone, a song in a language she didn’t remember or had ever understood, one that had never failed to put fear into the hearts of men who had heard it. The fog that was so common at this time year only added to the eerie mood, and when she heard boots quietly hit the deck of her ship, she knew she wasn’t imagining the trepidation in their owner’s steps.

She pulled her knife out from her belt and tucked it against her wrist: out of sight but ready to be used. Just in time too.

Between one line of the song and the next, strong hands grabbed Anne by the neck and hauled her over the side back onto the deck. Her vision whited out for a few seconds, the pain from her chest excruciating, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through it, kicking her legs up and connecting both feet with the gut of the man who had grabbed her, before rolling back over her shoulders and up to her feet.

The next man to come at her was more guarded than his companion, but he hadn’t seen the knife, and Anne had no hesitation in cutting the man’s throat when he reached for her. She grabbed his sword and buried her knife up to the hilt in the man’s heart, kicking him away and gesturing the next man forwards.

He rushed in like a fool, and Anne danced a tight circle around him kicking his knees out from under him and using both hands to ram her stolen sword into his back and through his chest. She left it there, knowing she didn’t have the strength to reclaim it, and swiped his sword him his slack hand instead - just in time to block the blow of the man who had first grabbed her. Anne didn’t prolong the fight: she backed up to the wall of the deck, and when the man rushed her just as his friend had, she ducked and used his own momentum against him by throwing him over the side of the ship.

She was ready for her next attacker to rush her…but instead he just looked at her curiously, seemingly oblivious to war raging behind him: “You’re lucky my brother wasn’t particularly fond of those men.”

_Remington? Or one of the other brothers?_

He looked a little young to be the oldest, but Anne knew that didn’t necessarily mean anything - and that, ultimately, it didn’t matter. He was still the enemy: “It matters little to me who he’s fond of. What matters is that they crossed me, and so I killed them.”

The stranger laughed: “Do you often have to make such boorish statements? Is it to compensate for the fact that you’re a woman?”

“I often find it’s men that have to compensate.” Anne smirked: “As I’m sure you know.”

The man bared his teeth in a snarl…but his eyes were no less amused: “I have nothing to compensate for.”

It was unfortunately true.

Anne was skilled with a sword, but this man had her matched. She was faster, but not enough to completely make up for his strength advantage. With the wound across her chest sapping her strength and energy, she found herself on the defensive as the man bore down on her. She blocked the worst of his blows, even got in a few of her own, but it was nothing impressive, and she was tiring fast. Soon enough her sword arm was shaking from exertion, and from the way her opponent was smirking, she got the feeling he was just playing with her.

She let him.

She let him toy with her, acting weak, conserving her strength, waiting from him to make a mistake.

And she didn’t have to wait long.

The stranger got cocky, tried to do something flashy, and Anne took the opportunity to trip him, yank his arm almost out of his socket as she stepped behind him so that he dropped his sword, and pressed her own sword against his throat.

“Let my brother go.”

Anne looked up as a pistol cocked, seeing to men glaring at her with the rest of her crew dead or on their knees behind them…but it was the man in front of her who spoke up: “Don’t shoot her!”

The older looking man sighed: “Emerson…”

“I like her.” Emerson responded unrepentantly, sounding like he was grinning from ear to ear: “She’s tricky.”

“She’s about to decapitate you.” the man, who’s flamboyant frogged jacket marked him as the middle brother Remington, rolled his eyes.

“Tricky, right?”

“You are a very, very strange man, you know that?” Anne looked down at the man she was currently holding at the edge of the blade.

The oldest brother, Sebastian, rolled his eyes: “Believe me, this isn’t even the strangest thing he’s done today.”

“I do. I do believe you.”

“I’ve been told my strangeness is enchanting.” Emerson piped up, leaning back to look up at Anne with charmingly bright eyes…

…but Anne just snorted dryly: “You’ve been lied to.”

“You just haven’t given me a chance yet.”

“He’s like mold.” Remington agreed, nodding as if he was dispensing great wisdom: “He grows on you, if you give him half a chance.”

Emerson grinned: “Want to give me a chance? I promise you, it’ll be interesting.”

* * *

“ - then your mother she was certain it would be.” Emerson remembered fondly, delivering a considerably censored version of Anne’s response: “And we took her back out ship to help treat her wound and get her to Port Royale.”

“Then did you get married?” Emilia asked excitedly.

“Not quite…” Anne smiled, hearing Emerson’s amusement in his voice as plain as day: “…that’s actually a whole different story…”

Anne winced.

She hoped Emerson’s imagination was good enough to make _that_ night into a fun story. She knew he was a creative soul, but that event had very nearly been a nightmare.

She was very much looking forward to hearing how he told it.


End file.
